


Intermediate Classes

by Alphinss



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Competition, Cute Ending, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Ice Skating, Katsuki Yuuri Flirts, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Relationship Reveal, Skater Phichit Chulanont, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Love, Young Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphinss/pseuds/Alphinss
Summary: Yuuri goes to some skating classes in Tokyo, that are really not the level he should be in. Cue the international skater who is also training at the same rink.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 392





	Intermediate Classes

Yuuri pulled on his trainers. It was summer before his final year of high school and he had applied for a summer skating programme in Tokyo. He had applied on a whim, the programme being for intermediates who wished to improve their skills. He and fifteen others. He was amazed he’d managed it. Even more amazed that his parents had financed it. It was two months in Tokyo, even if the accommodation was subsidised it couldn’t have been cheap. 

Although once he had actually got on the programme Yuuri had realised that it was not what he was expecting. Yuuri was not confident in himself. He constantly underestimated his abilities and considered himself less than he was. But even to him it was obvious that this course was not for someone of his ability. Easy didn’t even begin to cover it. Yuuri was definitely not an expert figure skater. But he wouldn’t consider the members of this course anywhere near intermediate. But, as he always did, Yuuri kept his mouth shut. 

It was only his second week here. But as with every other day of his life, Yuuri couldn’t help but wake up far earlier than was normal for most humans. He couldn’t help it. It was ingrained in him. It was only four in the morning, but Yuuri knew that he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep that night. He may as well get some early morning training in. 

As Yuuri had realised after his second day, this course had very little actual skating. They had only been in the rink four times over the past thirteen days. Yuuri was used to being on the ice everyday. Skating till his legs hurt. Till he couldn’t stand. Smiling from the exhaustion of it. He was missing it. He needed to release some of the nervous tension that built in him from simply being around other people. Especially ones that didn’t allow him to step out onto his frozen second home. 

It was only a short jog to the rink. Yuuri was sure to be back before anyone noticed anything amiss. He just needed to get on the ice. Even for an hour. He therefore opened the door with a quiet creak and flicked the lights on. This wasn’t the first morning that he had done this. He knew his way around the workings of the room. 

Yuuri quickly strapped his skates on and dove onto the ice. His skates moving fast. His jumps were a little sloppy. He had not had the opportunity to practice as much as he would have liked. It took him around half an hour to get back into his rhythm. His jumps becoming cleaner. Throwing a triple in here and there. His step sequence forming from the music in his own head. 

Forty-five minutes had passed when Yuuri finally stopped for a break. Grabbing his water from where it rested on the barrier. However, as he poured the water into his mouth a voice broke the silence. Words in the empty arena. 

“Some stamina you’ve got there.” Yuuri choked slightly on the mouthful of water before quickly turning to the stands where a solitary figure looked to have just stood. Yuuri could feel his face flushing. The man was striding forward. 

“Your triples need a little work. But your footwork is fantastic.” 

With his head down, his shoulders tense, eyes on his skates, Yuuri made his way toward the man who he was sure was now leaning on the barrier. He was certain he would be reprimanded for being on the ice without permission. Without his glasses Yuuri was rather blind. Faces tended to blur and distances were impossible. Yuuri had not had time for his contacts that morning. Did not think he would need them. 

Therefore as Yuuri lifted his eyes to the man he nearly choked on his own tongue. Silver hair down to his waist. Blue twinkling eyes. A heart shaped smile firmly on the face. Yuuri felt as though there had been a physical blow to his stomach. The air leaving his lungs rather violently. What the hell was Victor Nikiforov doing here?! 

A strangled sound made its way from behind Yuuri’s lips. He took a step back. His face was tomato shade. His eyes wide and uncomprehending. What the fuck. 

The best figure skater to have ever lived, tilted his head in slight confusion.

“Are you okay?” 

Yuuri couldn’t even shake his head in response. He was not okay. No. But there was no way for him to convey that. He could only stare in shock. 

“I’m Victor. What’s your name?” 

Victor Nikiforov! The Victor Nikiforov was asking him his name. Yuuri couldn’t do this. Wasn’t ready. His legs moved without thinking. He skated as fast as he could. Pulling the still laced skates off his feet; grabbing his bag and stuffing them in. He ran from the rink as fast as he could. His bare feet on the floor. Ignoring the Russian accented English that was following him. 

* * *

It was three days later that Yuuri returned for another early morning rink session. Three days with not a foot on the ice. He was getting desperate. This training was even more ridiculous. They had spent half of the week practicing jumps off the ice. Reading and watching about other skaters and learning some basics of ballet. Yuuri felt stifled. 

The fear of seeing Victor Nikiforov was much lesser than his need to skate. Anyway, there really was no chance that the man would be there again. In fact Yuuri had managed to half convince himself that the whole thing had been an illusion the first time anyway. A product of his sleepy mind. It hadn’t been real. 

At least that was what Yuuri told himself as he skated onto the ice that morning. A new routine had been forming itself in his head. Not that Yuuri had ever been much of a choreographer. But when he was forced to do the same ballet step he had been doing from the age of five, over and over, the mind tended to focus on other things; like the ice that he so desperately longed to be on. 

Yuuri spent what felt like thirty minutes testing out the ideas that he had created in his head. Although some certainly needed some refinement, others seemed to work better than he had planned. Of course it was the jumps that Yuuri had the most problem. The height. The rotations. His form. He was desperate to put a quad in, but each time he tried it just wasn’t right. 

Yuuri had fallen twice along with turning his jumps into triples and doubles the other five times. He was sitting on the ice, frustrated after his third fall. When once again the same voice from earlier that week sounded though the arena. However this time it was far closer.

“You weren’t high enough.” 

Yuuri looked up. Standing only a few feet away. Gold bladed skates. Victor Nikiforov! The young man was smiling once again. He skated closer. 

Yuuri once again felt his heart speed up and his mouth dry out. It hadn’t been a dream, an illusion. It was real. The silver haired man was real. And by god he was utterly gorgeous. 

A hand shot out, and without his brain connecting to his limbs, Yuuri found himself taking it. He was pulled into an unsteady stand. His brain still not fully comprehending what was going on. The skin was soft against his own. The arm strong. It took him a second to realise that he had failed to let go. 

A strangled gasp escaped from behind his lips. He almost threw the hand away. However, his feet not connected to his brain, Yuuri managed to land himself in the same position that he had been in only seconds before. His arse on the ice and his face an ashamed red. 

However Yuuri didn’t have too much time to be embarrassed, as soon there was another body sitting next to him on the ice. The silver hair dancing at the movement. He was so close. Yuuri could feel the heat from his body. He could only stare wide eyed as The Victor Nikiforov sat next to him. 

“This is probably a better position anyway.” Victor was smiling at him. Yuuri felt his brain beginning to short circuit. 

“You know…” Victor continued. Why was Victor still talking to him? He didn’t understand. He really should just run. The most decorated figure skater at only twenty-two, should not be talking to him. Yuuri was not worth his time. Yet his legs refused to move and his ears couldn’t help but listen. 

“No one seems to know who you are.” Victor’s smile was less vibrant. Not so heart shaped. Becoming a frown. Yuuri froze at his words. 

“What?” It was more of a choke. 

Victor seemed to take it as enough. “Well I asked around for the gorgeous figure skater who practices in the mornings and blushes like a virgin.” A teasing tone. But Yuuri couldn’t take it as such. He was actually beginning to feel sick. Yet Victor continued. 

“But all the coaches said that you didn’t exist. Never heard of you.” Victor was looking directly at Yuuri. “Strange isn’t it.” 

“Um…Ah…I…” It was nothing but a bubble of incoherent words. Yuuri didn’t think that he could really get anything else out right now. 

Victor could. “So who are you? What are you doing here?” 

Yuuri’s hands were beginning to tremble. His heart beating a little faster in his chest. He blinked at the face that was so close to him. The heart smile looked a little strained. The question clear in the blazing eyes. Yuuri didn’t know how to answer. 

“I…” he took a deep breath. He really should answer. Needed to answer. This man was the best skater in the world, after all. “I’m…I dont have a coach here.” 

Yuuri let out a breath as he finished the words. A weight off his shoulders. Maybe he could leave now. He had class after all. Not that he really needed, or wanted to go. But his parents were paying. He had to. 

However as he chanced a glance at the face of the Victor Nikiforov he did not see something that reassured him. The man’s frown was deeper and his gaze more curious. 

“Then what are you doing here?” The silver head tilted to the side. The locks cascading to the side. He looked like a dog. Like Vic-chan, in human form. Yuuri didn’t know why he thought of the poodle in that moment. But as it always did, it brought a smile to his face. A small one. The shy smile he’d pull at the dog that he adored. 

Yuuri desperately wanted to pat the silver hair. To feel it under his fingers. He wasn’t sure when the thought became an action. But his fingers had soon grabbed one of the silver curls. His face was closer now. This man was just so beautiful. 

“So…” Victor was looking so intently at Yuuri. Any remnants of a smile were gone. The frown in full force. One of question. “What’s your name?” 

It was then that Yuuri realised what he was doing. Who’s hair he had in his hand. Who’s breath was so close that he could feel it on his cheek. Yuuri shot back. His skates scraping against the ice. The shards collecting on his trousers. His eyes wide. 

Yuuri was on his feet and running from the ice, pulling off his boots, before he even had a chance to think that he was only repeating the events of a few days ago. 

* * *

Yuuri managed to last a week this time. Seven days and three weeks into his far from intermediate classes. He’d been on the ice three more times, but only in class. The jumps simple and the steps boring. Doubles only. Tedious. But Yuuri had wanted to avoid Victor. He didn’t think that he could face the man for a third time. 

Yet. Here he was. Once again stepping into the empty rink. However, this time, it wasn’t any length of time before Victor was there. Standing feet from Yuuri. His eyes pinned on the younger man. A frown on his face. 

Yuuri didn’t like the look.

However before he had time to think about it, Victor was speaking. Stepping closer with his words. His face serious. 

“I’ll make you deal. I teach you how to do the quad and then you tell me your name and what you’re doing here.” He was closer to Yuuri now. His hand outstretched. “Deal?” 

The fingers wiggled. But Yuuri could only stare at them. A second and then another. Yuuri looked up. The blue eyes were peering at him curiously. Yuuri felt his heart flutter as they looked at him. A quad from THE Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri decided then and there that he would sell his soul for that opportunity. 

“Deal” He took the hand in his. 

Yuuri had lost count of how many times he had attempted quads in the past. Only to crash and burn. He didn’t have a coach. Had group lessons at his home rink and watched videos of other skaters. Attempting to copy their movements and carry them out himself. 

Yet, within five minutes of Victor’s coaching he knew that this was what he wanted. He wanted someone to teach him. Someone to correct him and tell him where he was going wrong. With each move Yuuri felt himself become more calm. 

He forgot who it was that stood by his side. Forgot that the man could skate him under the table in a second. He only focused on the instructions. It took him fifteen minutes to spin his first quad. It took him thirty to land it. Yuuri was so dazed. He could do this. He really could. He could do a quad! 

Yuuri leant against the barrier panting. HIs face was red. His heart hammering. But not in nerves. It was from his hard work. His straining muscles. His shaking legs. Yuuri grinned. Large and uncontrollable. He could do a quad. He really could. 

“Your turn.” 

Yuuri blinked. Victor was before him. It was as though he was coming into focus since the first time for their session. He really had just been taught to do a quad by THE Victor Nikiforov. Said figure skater complementing him on his form, posture, positioning. He really must be in an alternative dimension. Things like this just didn’t happen. 

Yuuri let out a squeak. 

“Come on. It’s your turn.” Victor had a smile. Brighter than his one earlier. It was nicer. “Easy questions first.” Victor leaned on the barrier next to Yuuri. “What’s your name?” 

“Y-“ Yuuri coughed. Clearing his throat, he told himself. “Yuuri Katsuki.” He gave a shy smile. 

The blinding smile he received in return was worth it. “Good to meet you Yuuri Katsuki.” Yuuri’s own smile got a little wider as he heard his own name on the superstar’s lips. The man seemed far more human with those words. 

“So, why are you here?” Blue eyes were sparkling the smile even wider than before. 

“Umm..” Yuuri ran a hand through the sweaty hair. A nervous smile. “I’m in classes.” 

The frown returned. “Classes? But you said you had no coach.” Victor looked confused. Yuuri gave a tight smile. He didn’t really know how to explain it to him. Not without the man only laughing in his face. 

“Not a coach. No.” Yuuri scratched his face. Nervously. “I’m in the intermediate classes. No coach. One of the university professors.” Yuuri had cast his gaze down onto the ice. Not wanting to see the look the number one figure skater would give him. 

“Intermediate?” More confusion in his tone. “Yuuri. You are far from intermediate.” 

Yuuri’s head shot up at that. 

“What are you doing in those classes?” The smile on the heart shaped mouth was only a small one. The eyes filled with…Yuuri didn’t quite know. 

“Oh…um…well. I-“ Yuuri really didn’t have any idea what to say. His voice became a whisper. “I’m not really sure.” Yuuri’s shoulders came up. His posture tense. 

“Well then. You should come and train with me.” The grin on the face was ginormous. The silver hair flopping around it. 

“What.No, I-I-“ Yuuri’s eyes were wide in the slight panic of it all. What the hell was the man saying? He tried to express the utter insanity of the idea. But the words just wouldn’t come. 

“Good. You agree.” Victor seemed to be near vibrating with excitement. “Come on then. Practice starts soon. Okamoto-Sensei doesn’t like it when I’m late. 

Yuuri’s hand was grabbed. He was pulled out of the rink. His shoes quickly changed. A rather hurried jog across the university campus and they entered a ballet class that seemed about to start. It was filled with people that looked as though these types of practices were their livelihoods. 

A firm woman looked over at the two young men entering the room. She looked far from impressed. Some barked words in English. 

“Who is that, Victor?” English seemed a common theme here. One would think that they were no longer in Japan. Tokyo really was a crazy place. 

“A friend.” Yuuri nearly had a heart attack. He was Victor’s friend? When did that happen? “He’s joining practice today.” 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Well, if he can keep up.” 

That seemed to be it. Yuuri was dragged from class to class of Victor’s. The teacher may quiz it. May ask him if he was there against his will. But after his conformation of contentedness he was allowed to proceed as just another member of the class.

Lunch time passed in a blur of Victor handing him the bento box and started talking of things that Yuuri couldn’t really remember. The whole thing just felt like a dream. Or maybe a drug induced coma. Maybe Yuuri had been hit by a car and this whole thing was just his imagination playing tricks on him. He tried pinching himself. It didn’t work. 

An hour of practical study after lunch. Then Victor dragged Yuuri, hand clutched in his, toward the ice rink. Even in his hazy state Yuuri smiled. Finally. Some skating. 

“Afternoon Ito-Sensei.” 

“Victor” The woman cast her glance over Yuuri. 

“I’ve been hearing about your new friend from Okamoto-Sensei.” Victor grinned wider. Yuuri shuffled, nervous at her gaze. “But I did not expect him at your private practice.” 

Yuuri tensed. Oh. He should really go. A private practice. That was not somewhere that he should be. He took a step back without really thinking. However Victor’s and stopped him. Just as Ito-Sensei’s voice did. 

“Yet I’ve been told he can keep up. I would like to see if he can.” Her smile was vicious. Yuuri shuddered. Victor’s hand tightened in his. 

* * *

Yuuri didn’t think that he’d ever worked so hard in his life. It was his third day of being dragged along to Victor’s training sessions and Yuuri felt as though he was going to die. Everything hurt. Ever muscle was screaming at him. Thank God it was Sunday. 

Yuuri looked at the alarm clock that sat on the bedside table of the private room that he, well his family, was renting from the university, for the two months that the was there. The clock read ten am. Yuuri stretched under the covers. His muscles screaming at him. It seemed that he had missed breakfast. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Pulling himself painfully from the bed, Yuuri tugged on a pair of dubiously clean tracksuit bottoms. There was a free phone in reception. Guests could use it as they pleased. It was better than the payphone option. Or using his mobile which he currently had 10 yen credit on. The phone was a better option. 

Yuuri’s legs somehow carried him down the stairs. He collapsed in the chair before the free phone. His hair stuck up in every direction. His glasses on at a slight slant. He really couldn’t find it in himself to care. The phone was ringing. 

“Hello” 

“Hi mum” 

“Oh Yuuri darling” his mother’s voice sounded so happy. Yuuri was pleased that he had rung. “How are you doing? Learning lots I hope.” 

Yuuri chewed his lip. He didn’t like to share. Not good at emotional conversations. Mentioning Victor and his rather drastic change in training routine would be sure to cause one. 

“I‘m fine mum. A little tired.” That was true enough, Yuuri supposed. 

“Oh, they’re training you hard. I bet you’re enjoying it though.” 

Yuuri hummed in affirmation. 

The conversation continued for around half an hour. Inane and trivial conversation. Nothing of importance. Just talking. Yuuri was starting to forget about his straining muscles. 

“Oh, sorry love, customers to see.” Yuuri could feel his mum’s smile through the phone. 

“Okay mum. Bye, Love you” 

“Love you too Yuuri.” The line went dead. 

Yuuri went to stand, his legs complaining a little. 

“So you want to go for brunch?” The voice came out of nowhere. Yuuri nearly fell to the floor. Sitting on a sofa, a pseudo waiting area for the phone, was Victor. Yuuri only stared at him, his mouth agape. Yuuri still didn’t really know how to deal with the fact that Victor knew his name. Let alone the fact that the man wanted to spend time with him. 

“Ummm…” Yuuri tilted his head in confusion. The man was utterly baffling. So was some of his English. Brunch was not a word that Yuuri had come across before. “I..umm…Brunch?” 

Victor only grinned. “Well, you know, Breakfast” he lifted one hand “and lunch” he lifted he other. “Together.” He clapped. His two hands meeting. “Brunch.” 

Yuuri only gave a nod. A little clearer. But Yuuri still wasn’t sure why he was being invited. The man had, amazingly, let him attend all of his practices. Surely he was sick of him by now. But his very presence seemed to state the opposite. Not that Yuuri was complaining. 

“I umm…” Yuuri tugged at the rather scruffy shirt that he had worn for bed. “I should get changed. Maybe a, um, maybe a shower?” 

Victor only nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait.” 

Yuuri nodded before pausing. His voice was a little above a whisper. “You want to wait in the room?” 

It was as though Victor was a jack in the box. He was on his feet in a spring. He smiled. 

“Of course. Show me the way.” 

After grabbing clothes and making sure that the international figure skater was comfortable, Yuuri dived into the shower; throwing clothes on his still damp body. He just needed to dry his hair. Then he’d be going out for a meal with THE Victor Nikiforov. All in all Yuuri was out of the bathroom in about twenty minutes. 

It was only about forty minutes after that that the pair were sitting in a local Katsudon restaurant, with dishes in front of them. The responsibility of ordering having been left up to Yuuri. Victor’s Japanese extended to hello and thank you. Both of which he had already used more than once to every staff member he could see. 

Yuuri had sunk into his seat a little at all the eyes that were on him. But as the food was set before him, his eyes lit up a little. He hadn’t eaten Kasudon in over a month. The first mouthful was always the best. It seemed that Victor thought the same. 

“Vkusno.” Victor chewed, a grain of rice at the corner of his mouth. “This is delicious Yuuri.” 

Yuuri smiled. A small nod. “But my mum’s is better. I wish you could try it.” 

“Why can’t I?” Victor spoke behind the handful of food. 

“She lives in Hasetsu. It would take us 8 hours to get there.” Yuuri took another bite of the food.

“I should come and visit. I’ll bring Makkachin. She loves new places.” Victor was grinning ear to ear. 

Yuuri gave a shy smile. “She could meet Vic-chan. I’m sure they’d get on well.” 

“You have a dog?” Victor turned wide eyed to the young man opposite him. “What breed?” 

Yuuri felt his cheeks flushing a little. He really shouldn’t have mentioned it. But it had only been a few weeks and he was already missing his little puppy. Any opportunity to talk about him and he would. As his name sake was, Vic-chan really was Yuuri’s weakness. 

“Umm…He’s a toy poodle.” Yuuri focused his eyes on his bowl. 

Victor on the other hand was close to squealing. “You have any pictures?” 

That was all it took really. The rest of the meal and then the walk afterwards was spent talking about dogs. Not only Makkachin and Vic-Chan but any and all types of dogs. Which breed was the cutest, which was the most loyal, which the most moody. It seemed that both Yuuri and Victor were equally as obsessed with dogs. 

So as Yuuri was asked if he wanted to come back to the flat that Victor was renting and watch a movie, Yuuri only smiled and nodded. He felt as though he was suddenly seeing a far more real side of Victor. And Yuuri wanted more. Not the figure skating legend. The man who, even as boy, had been breaking records. No. Yuuri wanted to get to know him. The real Victor. The one who just couldn’t stop talking about his dog. 

They decided on an English film. It was their common language. Although Yuuri felt that his skills were still far from perfect in the complexities of the English language. A Disney film then. An easy to follow plot. They settled on The Lion King. Sitting on the sofa and eating the plain popcorn. They had figures to keep up. Well, Victor did anyway. 

It was about half way through the film that Yuuri fell asleep. Not that he realised. Not until the credits were rolling and his eyes were blinking open. It seemed that it was not only the embarrassment of sleeping that he had to deal with. No. There was the fact that he had fallen asleep on VIctor’s shoulder. There was that to deal with as well. 

Yuuri shot back on the sofa. 

“Shit..s-sorry” Yuuri could feel the heat of his face. 

Victor was smiling at him. His hand hovering over the place where Yuuri had been a second before. 

“Where you going Yuuri? You’re rather comfortable you know.” The heart smile and the glittering eyes. What could Yuuri say to that. He could only stammer out something that was really not a response. 

Victor patted the spot by his side. “Come on. Let’s watch another.” 

Yuuri shuffled slowly. Soon back in the spot. His shoulders closely brushing Victor’s. He ignored it. Or tried to. The flush of his face told him he wasn’t really being very successful. Victor flicked through the options before selecting another film. Yuuri couldn’t tell you what it was. 

As soon as the film started playing Victor threw the remote to the floor. The arm that had been at Yuuri’s shoulder shifted. Soon resting on the sofa behind him. Then, within minutes pulling him into Victor’s side. It seemed that Victor was not very good at being patient. Not that Yuuri was complaining. His heart was hammering so hard, his face so red he thought he might pass out. But it felt nice. The arm around him. The fingers resting on his arm. Yes. Nice. 

Yuuri managed to calm himself a little as the film went on. Not that he was paying it any attention. His heart was less rapid and his breathing a little calmer. But that soon changed. 

It seemed that Victor was growing a little bored. The fingers that had rested on his arm, soon started to run along the revealed skin. Yuuri was only in a short sleeved t-shirt after all. The fingers raised Yuuri’s hair, goosebumps on his skin. Hot and cold where he touched. 

Yuuri shuddered slightly at the touch. However he found his body leaning closer into Victor. His head pressed right against his chest. Hearing the beating of it beneath the thin material. His hand found itself resting on Victor’s knee. Not that it was an active choice. 

Victor’s arm tightened around him. Pulling him impossibly closer. Yuuri was almost sitting in the other man’s lap. He couldn’t find any way to complain. It felt…nice. The closeness. Nice. 

Victor’s hand came to Yuuri’s chin. He gently pulled the younger man up. Positioning him. His eyes meeting his. 

“You’re beautiful Yuuri.” Victor spoke quietly. His eyes looking directly into Yuuri’s. Yuuri could feel his face red once again. But he made no move to pull away. He could only keep looking. 

“S-so are you.” His mumble was quieter. His face closer. He could feel Victor’s breath on his cheek, his nose, his mouth. The man was just so close. He couldn’t look away. 

Victor leaned forward. So did Yuuri. 

Their lips met. It was soft. It was pressing. Victor’s hands pulled Yuuri closer. Yuuri clutched at the thin material of Victor’s shirt. His head was swirling. His thoughts messy and in disarray. But there was one thought that was clear in his mind. He never waned this to end. 

* * *

4 years later 

It was evident to everyone that knew him, that Victor had someone. A partner. And to those who were Russian it was evident that about a year ago the two of them had got married. The rather ostentatious gold ring was a constant reminder of that. The skater never took it off. However all them were still utterly oblivious as to who it was that was Victor’s significant other. 

This was surprising, really. The man was utterly useless at keeping secrets and the biggest scatterbrain that any of them knew. Yet somehow whenever anyone asked Victor about his partner the man just seemed fantastically adept at avoiding the question. They didn’t even know the gender of this mysterious spouse. It was infuriating. 

However the man always seemed to be on his phone in any free minute. Texting. Sending pictures. Smiling like an idiot. Today was the day when Yuri, tiger of the rink, simply couldn’t take the soppy looks anymore. He stomped toward the utterly ridiculous man. 

“Victor” The man looked up. Tilting his head to the side. A bright smile. 

“Yurio” Blasted nickname. “Everything okay?” 

“No” Yuri barked. “Will you stop texting your blasted girlfriend so that we can skate without vomiting.” The young man was shouting. 

“Not my girlfriend.” Victor only smiled then. “So it’s fine if I keep texting then.” The phone pinged and Victor looked down at it again. The soppy smile was back on his face. 

“Fine.” Yuri growled at the infuriating man. “Wife then.” 

Victor only hummed noncommittally at that. 

Yuri looked like a cat that had had water sprayed at it. This was getting ridiculous. Without even thinking he snatched the phone from his rink mates hand. He’d get the name of the person that Victor was texting and then end all this stupidity. 

“Well stop texting…” Yuri trailed off as he looked down at the name on the phone. As well as the language that the texts were written in. “How the hell am I supposed to read that?” The blonde yelled. 

The text messages were filled with weird squiggles that looked way too complicated to look like anything resembling an alphabet. Russian had a variety of different letters but even it didn’t look as utterly confusing as the alphabet on the small screen. 

Victor plucked the phone back from the younger man’s hands. “You’re not,” he grinned. Before turning back to his phone. It buzzed again. 

#######

Phichit and Yuuri had been house mates for a little over six months now. The same amount of time that they were into their third year of University. Phichit had know Yuuri for far longer than that, having met each other in their first year of University, but it was only now that they were sharing a flat that Phichit noticed something. 

Yuuri was constantly on his phone. 

At the rink Phichit had thought that it was more of a coping mechanism. As soon as there was a break in the schedule, or a minute of silence, Yuuri would reach for his phone. But the young man was socially awkward. His interactions with people were often stinted and awkward. A phone was a fantastic cover. But it seemed that it was not only a cover. 

The young man was glued to the device covered in blue dogs. Yuuri’s room in the flat was often filled with the sound of talking, usually in Japanese or English. Yet Phichit had on several occasions thought that he had caught the cadence of another language that he did not recognise.

The phone was also always being texted on. Yuuri would snap picture of his lunch, or of the view from the bus window. Whatever came up that day would be sent to someone. It sure as hell wasn’t instagram as Phichit had scoured the internet for his friend. And even once reversed searched all the pictures that he had asked Yuuri to send to him. Nope. He was definitely sending them to someone. 

At first Phichit hadn’t wanted to ask. It was Yuuri’s life. He could text whoever he wanted to. God knew that Yuuri communicating with anyone was a blessing. The poor man’s room was covered from floor to ceiling in skater posters. The majority of them being of one Victor Nikiforov. 

To have such an idolisation of people that Yuuri should see as competition. It worried Phichit a little. Yuuri was only a step away from being a name on the international stage of skating. It would not do for Yuuri to be unable to even look at his competitors without collapsing into a heap. 

So Phichit had let the communication go. Any interactions that Yuuri had was an improvement. It had taken him two years to get Yuuri to open up to him. Yuuri needed as much support as he could get, from wherever it came.

However sober Phichit and drunk Phichit were two different people. And that night was one of drunken celebration at having finished their exams for the semester. Yuuri, as expected, did not attend the festivities. 

As Phichit staggered up the stairs, alcohol clearly affecting both his coordination and his judgment, he didn’t even think as he slammed open the door to his best friends room. In fact without even looking at Yuuri he started to speak. 

“Yuuri, you’ve been holding out on me, you…” The words froze on his lips. 

Phichit’s mouth almost dropped to the floor as he finally realised what he was looking at. A very very naked Yuuri was lying in front of a laptop. A voice coming from the speakers. A decidedly male voice. 

“Yuuri? Yuuri who’s there? Are you okay?” 

Yuuri himself seemed frozen in a state of shock. His face was so red that Phichit thought that his head might explode. the laptop managing to cover most of what was going on, Yuuri had managed to bring his hands up to protect his modesty from shattering as his dignity just had.

“Phichit” The word came out as a mix of a growl and a whimper. 

Phichit didn’t need any further prompting. His face was as red as Yuuri’s as he slammed the door behind him and flew from the room as fast as his feet could carry him. 

It was safe to say that Phichit did not try to ask about Yuuri’s attachment to his phone again. 

* * *

“Are you ready Yuuri?” 

Yuuri rubbed a hand across his face, the fingers shaking. No he really didn’t think he was ready. 

A hand slapped him on the back. “It’ll be fine. It’s only the qualifiers.” Phichit grinned. 

“Easy for you to say” Yuuri grimaced a mumble. “You’re not competing.” 

Phichit only grinned. “Good Luck Yuuri.” 

“Thanks Phichit” Yuuri gave a small smile. Well he tried to. “I’ll try my best.” 

Yuuri felt his heart in his throat as Phichit went to sit with the other spectators. While Yuuri himself made his way toward the competitors area. It was time for the warm up lap. No jumps. That’s what Victor had told him when he had talked to him yesterday, and again over text this morning. Jumps would only freak him out more. 

Chris was the only competitor that Yuuri knew at these qualifiers. And even then, he could count on one hand the number of times that he had met him before. Every time that he had the man had been a reckless flirt. Yuuri was just glad that Victor, Yuuri and Chris had never been in a room together. The other man would surely have asked for a threesome.

Yuuri stepped out onto the ice with a nervous sigh. He really wasn’t willing to face the world today. He really just wished that Victor was here. That they could fall into bed together and sleep until neither of the actually felt tired anymore. He just wanted the day to be over with. 

The warm up skate didn’t go badly. Yuuri did as his husband commanded and left the jumps out of the laps and footwork. 

His short programme was fourth in the schedule for that day. Yuuri had watched as the first two competitors had finished their routines and felt his heart rate increase. As the third skater made his way onto the ice Yuuri stepped into the changing rooms with a nervous breath. 

“In, then out” Yuuri coached himself. His heart thrumming. His fingers trembling. 

Yuuri fumbled through the pockets of his Japan jacket as his breathing became a little regular. It took only two rings before the intended recipient picked up. 

“I can’t do it Victor. I can’t.” Yuuri’s voice was shaking. The words tumbling over one another. 

“Yuuri.” The voice was soft and Yuuri could feel the smile. “I believe in you Yuuri. Do it for me.” 

Yuuri’s whole body seemed to relax at that. The tension falling from his face, instead a small smile replacing the tense frown. 

“I’ll be watching, Yuuri.” A pause. “Now go. You’re on soon.” The phone clicked off. 

That was all that Yuuri had needed. Victor would be watching. That was all that he needed to know. Victor would be looking at him. Wherever he was in the world, he would be looking at him. Across the world. He would still be there. He would feel him. 

Yuuri stepped out into the stadium. The ice shining before him. 

“Yuuri Katsuki. Skating for Japan” 

Yuuri was on the ice. 

The music started. 

Yuuri lost himself in it. Victor was watching. He would do this for Victor. 

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky and his team mates sat around the TV that lined one wall of the room for the second day of the international qualifiers. No Russians were in the qualifiers, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t want to watch their competition. Victor and Georgi had already got golds at their own events rather easily. However it seemed that there was a new competitor from the Japanese figure skating world. 

Yesterday only a few of the Russian team had gathered to watch, but those that they had, were utterly shocked to see the name Yuuri Katsuki sailing up the rankings to take first place. His Short programme skyrocketing ten points above any other competitor. No one had ever heard of the skater. Yet, there he was, outpacing Chris who had been skating competitively for years. 

But no one could really dispute the positioning. His skating was entrancing. It pulled them all in and even Yuri couldn’t look away, even if he had made his opinion on the skater’s name rather well known. 

So as nearly all the Russian team craned around the TV as the Japanese skater stepped on the ice, no one noticed Victor’s absence. They could only watch with wide eyed awe as Yuuri Katsuki started his free skate. They didn’t care who was there with them. 

Every member of the Russian team could only stare in awe at the young man. This would be a moment that they would remember for the rest of their life. 

Yuuri Katsuki was changing the figure skating world before their eyes. 

* * *

It was a surprise to the entire world, as Yuuri Katsuki sailed through both of his qualifiers, taking gold and sitting comfortably at the top of the ranking. 

A never before heard of skater. 

Choreography that rivalled even the great Nikiforov. 

Utterly entrancing. 

Yuuri’s family and friends were utterly baffled. His coach more so. It wasn’t that they didn’t want Yuuri to succeed. Of course they did. But how was it that the awkward twenty two year old was dominating the ice like no one else belonged there. Seducing the audience and the competition alike. It was the first time in years that it had even been entertained that there might be someone else in first place at this year’s finals. 

“Yuuuuuurrii” Yuuri had know that it would be Phichit on the other end of the phone before he had even answered it. There was only one person who was more persistent than his husband. 

“No Phichit. You have classes.” 

There was a groan over the phone. “But Yuuri I’m looking at tickets now. I could be there just in time for the start of the free skate. And it would only be five hundred dollars.” 

“Only” Yuuri snorted. There was a pause as neither of them spoke. 

“Phichit-“ 

“Yuuri-“ 

Yuuri rubbed his forehead in frustration. His best friend was still in utter denial that he wouldn’t be able to attend the finals this year. Celestino had banned him. His grades already tottering precariously. Missing another set of exams would push Phichit over the edge and into the pit of failure. 

“You can’t come Phichit. You have your essay due tomorrow and two exams the day after. I have to go.” 

“Yuuuurrriiiii” It was long and dramatic. 

“Go study Phichit. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Without even waiting for a response Yuuri hung up. He wasn’t about to allow himself to get trapped in a conversation that would only lead Phichit to create some ridiculous scheme about how to pass his exams and get to the finals in time. He had heard enough of them for the past week. 

A text buzzed in Yuuri’s pocket. 

He looked at his phone again and a smile spread across his face. Now that was a message that he wanted to receive. A room number and a winkey face. Yuuri may be exhausted from the nearly twelve hour flight. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hunt down that room until he collapsed from exhaustion. 

Celestino’s room was just down the corridor and as long as Yuuri was back before breakfast, the man wouldn’t notice a thing. So, still in his pyjamas, Yuuri pushed his way from where he had been lounging on the bed and made his way to the door. He slipped on his shoes, stuffed his room card into his pocket and then the door clicked shut behind him. 

Yuuri was soon jamming the lift button for the seventh floor, his impatience already making itself known. It had been four months since he had last seen his husband. Far too long. Yuuri pressed the button again. However it seemed to have the opposite effect that he was hoping for as the lift came to a stop, doors opening on the fourth floor. 

A face met Yuuri’s as the doors opened. He let out a silent groan. This was really not what he needed. 

“Yuuri. Is that you?” A blonde head of hair and a flirtatious smile. Of course it just had to be 

“Chris” Yuuri nodded. “Nice to see you” 

It was a flash and the man was pressed closer to Yuuri than was wholly appropriate. 

“I’ve been seeing your skating Yuuri.” Chris pressed a little closer. “Enthralling” 

Yuuri only gave a non-comital hum as his face began to shade into more of a pink. 

“So where’s our rising star heading at such an hour?” 

Yuuri could feel his face flush further. “Just back to my room.” 

“Ohh” Chris was nearly purring. “On seven. Same as me. How convenient.” 

The man was closer than he should be now. Yuuri was glad when the doors finally opened. The voice announcing over the speakers that they had reached the seventh floor and that they should mind the closing doors. 

Yuuri glanced back at his phone, 710, before at the signs on the wall. To the left. It seemed that fate was against him as Chris turned in the same direction as him. But only a few steps down the corridor and there was the door before him.

“Ah, um, this is me.” Yuuri smiled at the man. 

Chris’ eyes opened only a fraction, before he straightened his back. 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Yuuri.” 

Yuuri smiled and nodded. All flirtation suddenly seemed knocked out of Chris. The man continued along the corridor. 

Chris walked to the end of the corridor and then looped back toward the lift. His hand rubbing out the creases that had formed at his forehead. Well, it seemed that there would be no hanging out with Victor tonight. 

At least he knew that the man had a damn good reason for blowing him off. 

* * *

Yuuri stepped on the ice with trepidation in his heart. Never before had this many eyes been watching him. Never had they pinned their expectation on him. Their interest in how he would preform. It sparked through the air. 

But then he was there. His pink costume sparkling in the light of the arena. His eyes were on him. Pinned directly onto the man that he had married. The man that he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. The man who had smashed a world record, dancing a love song, loosing himself in those eyes.

Yuuri wanted to show his love. For Victor. For the man who had taught him how to love himself. 

Yuuri’s skates suddenly felt firmer on the frozen plane that he had spent most of his life. Those eyes gave him strength. The lips that moved in silent encouragement. It was almost as though he could hear the words in his ear, so often had the other man given them to him. 

The music started. 

Yuuri let it lead him, his eyes never leaving Victor. The bright blue was so much more blinding than the white of the ice. More entrancing than anything in the audience. More provocative than even Chris’s dances. 

A quad. 

A step sequence of fast and perfect feet. 

A sweeping look. Eyes back to Victor. 

A combination; quad and triple. 

Emotion pouring from every step. 

It was over in a second and a lifetime. 

Cheering deafened the arena. The screams raucous and in some cases, utterly uncontrollable. Toy poodles, plus sushi and flowers rained down onto the ice. 

Before Yuuri could really think about it, he had two of them in his hands. A small brown poodle and another slightly bigger one. Both clutched tightly to his chest. His feet finding their own way off the ice; toward Victor. 

The heart shaped smile was more blinding than it had ever been.

It seemed that the entire audience was holding its breath. 

“You were amazing Yuuri” Victor looked so happy. “Amazing” 

Yuuri’s arm extended. The bigger of the two poodles getting closer toward Victor. 

“Reminded me of Makka.” Yuuri’s shy smile seemed to melt Victor into nothing more than a puddle. It was a miracle that he managed to hold the poodle in his hands. 

Victor couldn’t help it and he was soon pulling his husband into the tightest hug that he could manage. The smaller Japanese man pressed tightly against him. 

He whispered in his husband’s ear. “I love you Yuuri.” 

The blush on Yuuri’s face was enough. 

The man walked to the kiss and cry. 

Victor had held his world record for less than half an hour, as Yuuri himself then ascended to grab it right from under his feet. He beat him with a score of …………. a whole point higher than his husband’s own record. Not that Victor was anything but proud. 

At the medals ceremony that evening, as a gold medal was looped around the neck of another competitor for the first time in nearly a decade, Victor Nikiforov didn’t look anything other than happy. As his shoulders brushed with the victor, eyes crinkled and mouth was wide in a smile. 

“Silver suits you Victor” Yuuri smiled down as the words were whispered, not quite loud enough for anyone other than his husband to hear. 

“Not as good as gold looks on you.” 

Then before Yuuri had a chance to stop it, or even notice that it was happening, a set of lips was covering his own. A hand on his back, keeping his knees from buckling. 

He didn’t hear the screams of the crowd, and didn’t see the flashes of so many cameras. All he could feel were the lips on his, and the smell of the man that he loved. So close. 

Victor drew back. A smug look on his face. 

“Well, I promised you a kiss, didn’t I.” 

Yuuri didn’t think that his face could be anymore red, and then he remembered the cameras. 


End file.
